


XII: A Troubled Princess

by LWDY



Series: Final Fantasy: Futa Universe [1]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Anal Sex, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Frustration, Futa, Futanari, Hair-pulling, Other, Plot, Porn With Plot, Princess - Freeform, Revenge, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Frustration, Spanking, Threesome, Viera (Final Fantasy)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWDY/pseuds/LWDY
Summary: Princess Ashe of Dalmasca still lives and swears revenge against the tyranny of the empire. Her two companions: the beautiful, vieran warrior, Fran, and the cute, human mage, Penelo, are both roped into her desire for vengeance. Fran disapproves of Ashe's methods and thinks of ways she may calm the troubled princess. Fortunately for Ashe, viera are excellent at relieving stress...
Relationships: Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca/Fran, Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca/Penelo, Fran & Penelo (Ivalice Alliance)
Series: Final Fantasy: Futa Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706446
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> Consider the plot up until after Raithwalls tomb but only containing only these three girls. The story is basically the same - with just a few changes. We take it from after the Leviathan scene. Oh, and they have dicks. Hey, maybe they have dicks in the game anyway? Viera probably do to be honest.

“The empire will know remorse…” 

The room is flooded with quiet after Ashe’s bold statement. The air has a pungent tension; neither of her two new allies want to question her questionable goals. Instead, her petite, blonde friend softly asks:

“Do you know how to use the stone?” She fiddles with her pigtails as she asks. Ashe gasps, turning to meet Penelo’s gaze. The princess has no response. 

“Perhaps the Garif would know of a way.” Comes a husky, yet feminine voice from the corner. The words bring hope to Ashe’s ears. 

“Are you certain?” The princess rushes over to the tall, red eyed warrior. Fran stands upright, looking deep into Ashe’s faint blue eyes. The eyes are desperate, filled with a longing; a longing she has seen in human eyes many times over. 

“Yes, they are a wise people, found in Kerwon, south of the plains of Giza. They would share their knowledge with a princess of Dalmasca.” The viera’s voice is laden with caution and silent judgement. 

“Then we must leave as soon as possible.” The princess turns away, heading for the door.

“Ashe, if I may?” Fran asks in a low tone, touching Ashe’s forearm. The princess halts, waiting for the warrior to continue. Getting the point, the viera speaks:

“They would share their knowledge of the stone. The terrors it can - and has wrought. The hunger it yearns for.” Her voice is dense with implication. She sounds accusing. 

“And I will heed it. I will be waiting outside.” Ashe takes her leave. All Fran took from that response is dismissiveness. Concern for the princess has risen more and more since their initial meeting beneath the city. The way Ashe loathes the empire leaves a bitter taste in the viera’s mouth. Once the princess has left, Penelo timidly approaches Fran. 

“You do not trust her?” Her honey eyes compliment the blonde pigtails well; though those eyes are always laden with shyness when she talks to Fran. 

“Trust is not my concern. It is her uncertainty; she clamours to fight for the people but is driven by hatred. Such a thing is ill-suited for one seeking power.” She emits an aura of wisdom with her words; something Penelo admires deeply. 

“What will you do?” The smaller girl curiously asks. 

“What I can. What of you little one, what is your goal in this?” Fran rests a hand on her wide hip. Though her posture and tone of voice are casual, she still intimidates Penelo to no end. The blonde fumbles through a few words, unable to hold the viera’s rich gaze. She doesn’t have an answer, not a good one anyway. Fran knows this and just smiles. 

Exiting the room, their eyes are assaulted by the brilliant Rabanastran summer. Fran takes the lead, stepping into the bright, bustling streets. Many residents rush through the marketplace causing quite the bustle. Ahead of them, stood sternly at the quiet end of the street, is Ashe; her platinum blonde hair shimmers in the sunlight. The princess, though incognito, still manages to be hard to divert your eyes from. Her poise is unquestionably sophisticated, and her beauty, royal. It’s a surprise nobody recognises her, and even more shocking given that her outfit draws attention so well. They approach the princess. 

“The plains suffer from the rains at this time of year. The paths will be a little different than usual.” Penelo softly warns. 

“Thank you, but I am familiar with the workings of my kingdom.” Ashe says a little more harshly than intended. Penelo recoils a little. Fran places her manicured hands on the blonde’s shoulder as she smoothly talks. 

“Thank you for the warning. Let’s away.” Fran smirks down at Penelo. The blonde’s heart flutters. 

*

True to the pigtailed girls warning, the thick clouds above the plains remain unshifting as they approach; they can almost see rain from this distance. Fran flickers her wild ponytail and gives the clouds a distasteful glance. 

“Not a fan of the rain, Fran?” Penelo sweetly asks. Fran looks at her carefully as they walk. ‘Was she watching me?’ The viera thinks.

“In my birthplace, the rain would rarely reach us, our kind are unaccustomed to it.” Her statement is deliberately devoid of pieces of information. Penelo is taken aback.

“It would not reach you…? Where are viera’s from?” 

Fran elects to not give the answer. Not out of disrespect, but for her own wellbeing; she wishes she did not bring it up. She simply shakes her head at the pigtailed girl and smiles respectfully. Penelo simpers back understandingly. 

“We can set up camp whenever you would like then.” Her tone is laden with a motherly care beyond her 16 years. As though on cue, the ground begins to pitter; the more they walk, the more the sands turn to sludge. Ashe stops, and speaks from a few feet ahead of them:

“This may be unpleasant.” Her royal inflection is a little tense. Fran strides up to her side. 

“And yet we must persist, for Dalmasca, no?” The viera’s accent has some kind of intent behind it, but it is not something which Ashe can discern.

“Yes…” The princess drifts ahead with an air of unease about her. The sky above them has all but darkened the ground. Were they to look back, they would still see Rabansatre in the distance, glistening beneath the sun - but they do not look back. The party falls quiet for some time. The rains are, without question, soothing. The many pits and divots in the Giza plains are now as rivers, and ponds. Despite the dull lighting, there is a certain beauty to it all. The wet sand soon becomes soft, mossy soil. 

Though the odd creatures seek to threaten them, nothing worthy of note occurs. The girls are all drenched and deep in thought. Ashe’s thoughts are racked with rage. ‘The empire took everything. The empire will take more. The empire must face justice.’ 

Penelo’s thoughts, however, could not be further from Ashe’s. ‘Where is Fran’s home? I hope we get to see it someday… We? What am I thinking?!’ 

Fran’s seem to be split somewhere in between. ‘I must keep Ashe on the right path. I cannot be too forthcoming. I must keep her composed. I, myself, must remain composed. But what of Penelo? The girl appears infatuated with me. She yearns to talk with me more. I must remain composed.’ She asserts her last thought whenever her overactive mind starts to drift. 

*

A few hours have passed and the dim light that could reach them through the clouds has become even lesser. Fran turns, trying to discern the distance they have travelled. No longer can Rabanastre be seen from the plains, however they still have a way to go before reaching their goal. Despite the damp, the air is still warm, and somewhat pleasant, though based on the time of day, this will not last must longer. The flickers of sunlight glisten with an orange hue. 

“The sun departs, perhaps it is time we made camp.” The viera’s words are spoken with a sense of finality that neither human decides to question. They examine the area, searching for a fitting spot and find a rather large sun crystal, dim from the lack of light. Its unusual shape would allow for easy coverage when setting things up. Fran reaches for her headpiece and removes it, freeing the wild ponytail. She shakes her exquisite silver locks; they cascade beautifully down, past her hips. 

“Princess, whilst Penelo weaves a suitable sleeping area, will you accompany me in search of wood.” The viera’s deep, red eyes do not break away from Ashe’s.

“Of course.” She calmly acquiesces. Penelo’s eyes wander over Fran’s wondrous hair and wet form as she and Ashe exit the scene. ‘And I thought she was already perfect…’ 

The princess and her warrior gather the necessary things; wet as the wood may be, that won’t be an issue for the trio of mages. 

“Share your thoughts?” Fran suggests, going about the task casually. 

“There is naught more to say. I have my goal; I will achieve it.” She is a driven as she should be. 

“Not all thoughts need be so focussed, Princess.” Fran attempts to diffuse her a little. 

“They may be, if the situation demands it.” Her hints are obvious – she’s trying to shut the viera down again. The warrior halts what she is doing, drops the wood and locks her eyes with Ashe’s own. 

“Thinking only of what is to come, and what must be done is poor thinking. Your mental state will falter, and your decisions: rash.” 

“What are you suggesting?” The princess snaps. Fran, choosing to accept the anger thrust upon her and ignore it, calmly replies:

“That your thoughts be set aside. That you take a few moments to be at peace.” Despite the viera’s eyes being red, they are very relaxing to look at. 

“I cannot have peace, not until Dalmasca does.”

“But it does, princess. The people do not know of your existence. What they have now is the best they can have, given the current circumstance. Take just tonight and relax; no thoughts of the empire and no thoughts of what should or could be.” Fran’s wisdom is fair. 

Ashe falters. She is torn. The Viera puts her hands on Ashe’s slender shoulders before speaking in a low voice:

“Some persuasion, perhaps.” Her hands reach up to the princess’s soft cheeks and she leans down, closing her eyes. Ashe’s faint blue eyes widen as Fran’s soft, wet lips meet her own. The kiss is strong. It is confident. It is addictive. Slowly, Ashe’s eyes flicker closed as well, as she lets the viera take the lead. The princess’s arms rest submissively against Fran’s body, whilst Fran wraps her arms around the princess’s back. Her hold is solid and safe, and their kiss is tender, but raw. Not a single thought of the empire crosses Ashe’s mind. Their lips part. 

“Consider me persuaded.” The princess’s voice is airy and a little cute. Her smile is kind and her eyes are gentle. This is very unlike her; or perhaps, this is what she was like before her world was turned to ruin. She snuggles her head into Fran’s chest and wraps her arms around her waist. The viera holds her securely.

“This is not wholly selfless; you are appealing to me.” Fran says smoothly. 

“Not mincing words, are we?-” The princess chuckles a little. She continues, “-what of Penelo?” She looks up to the much taller woman’s face. 

“Do not forget the purpose of this; tonight, is for you, princess. If her presence worries you, there is no need for concern, she is kind and understanding.” Fran’s low voice is soothing, just like the rain. 

“No, will she be joining us?” The implication in Ashe’s tone is unexpectedly sultry. Fran’s lips curve into a dark smirk. 

“She has little choice now, not that she would fight it…” 

*

Penelo sits inside the huge, Rabanastran styled tent that she weaved into existence using her magicks. The large sun crystal stands just outside the front and acts as a wide shelter for the entryway. Beneath the crystal would be a perfect spot for the fire. 

‘How long does it take to get wood? Oh no, maybe they were attacked…’ Just as she is about to stand up, two figures loom into the dark tent. Based on the curvaceous figures and vieran ears on one of them, it must be her allies. 

“I was starting to worry.” Penelo meekly whispers just loud enough to be heard. 

“Worry not, we were talking and made a plan for the night.” Fran boldly states, before heading back outside and placing the wood in front of the crystal. Penelo looks to Ashe with confusion.

“We aren’t staying here?” 

“You are mistaken, we are staying; we simply decided what we would do with our time.” Ashe explains with a smile. ‘She should smile more.’ Penelo thinks, admiring her features as she adjusts to the dim light. A faint blue flicker comes from the entryway to the tent and a rush of water can be heard. 

“Dry and ready.” Fran calls to Ashe, having dispelled all of the water from the wood and out onto the plains. The princess glides over to her ally and flicks her hand towards the wood. A feisty flash of fire sets the pieces ablaze. It looks warm amidst the rains and dark skies. Ashe turns back to the blonde:

“The misshapen crystal should keep this area relatively dry. Join us outside, Penelo?” 

“Okay.” The blonde stutters a little, surprised by Ashe’s welcoming warmth. Fran has already conjured up a blanket and is seated elegantly by the crystal. The flames not only dazzle their eyes, but also the crystal itself. It seems to be soaking up some of the heat and has begun to illuminate a soft, subtle glow to the area around them. Even though rain assaults the ground mere feet away, the air couldn’t be more affable. Ashe slinks down onto the ground, rather close to Fran; so close that Penelo feels a little heat rise in her cheeks with jealousy. The blonde seats herself on Fran’s other side, but not daring to get too close.

“So uhm… what are we going to do with our time?” Penelo weakly asks. Fran abruptly places a hand on the blonde’s wet thigh making her gasp harshly. 

“Dry ourselves.” The viera’s face is so serious that Penelo doesn’t know what to think and bumbles through a few sounds before finding her words:

“Ah, hm, okay. You will use your time magick to remove the water?” 

“No, I will use my hands to remove your clothes.” 

She can’t believe her ears. It’s as if the air is caught in her mouth; her lips are parted, but no sound escapes them. Ashe’s facial expression reaffirms what she heard to be true; the princess nibbles the inside of her bottom lip, with a look in her eyes more intense than the flames before them. Fran gets to her hands and knees, sensuously crawling up so that her face is inches from Penelo’s own. She pauses there, red eyes fixed upon her own honey ones. 

“First, the princess wishes to see your desires fulfilled.” Fran’s breath sends the blonde into a dizzying stupor. 

“Desires…” Is all Penelo can say with a muted whisper. Fran crushes her lips against the much smaller girls, whose body falls completely limp as the viera dominates the kiss entirely, forcing her down onto the blanket. Every fibre of Penelo’s being screams, her chest leaps and flutters and her womanhood aches. Hungrily, she grabs the back of the viera’s head and forces them into a deeper kiss, which Fran happily obliges. Penelo is unable to contain the energy flowing through her body, no rational thought is left. Her hands run wild over Fran’s body, feeling every part she has fantasised doing ever since they met: her modest, perky chest, her slim, toned waist, her full, womanly hips, her long, powerful thighs. 

Consequently, Ashe begins to do the same, kneeling behind the bent over viera. She gropes at her wide hips and grinds herself against her rear. Fran moans into the blonde’s mouth, feeling the princess’s excitement through the tight, red skirt. The viera breaks away from the kiss, making her body straight and starting to feel Ashe’s bust against the centre of her back. Sexily, she turns to Ashe, giving her the questionable eyebrow. The princess reaches around and roughly rubs her hand against the front of Fran’s G-string, feeling the considerable bulge there that caught both her and Penelo’s attention more than once. It feels as big as it looks. 

“What happened to Penelo’s desires, hm?” The viera flirts in a sultry, deep tone. 

“She wouldn’t mind sharing, am I right?” Ashe smirks, looking down at the blonde, confident in her rhetorical question. Penelo adorably lays on her back, honey eyes wide as the moon. It’s as though all of the years underneath the empire’s rule are being repaid by this one night. Not only does she get a viera, but the princess of her kingdom? She lays there watching Ashe’s hands worship Fran’s body with smooth strokes, and firm grabs. It’s everyone’s fantasy. 

“N-no…” Penelo breathlessly stutters. Ashe’s eyes drift down Penelo’s incredibly slender figure and pause over the obscene, bulky shape resting against her stomach. 

“You may be in for a treat there, Fran.” Hunger drips from every word. The viera, maintaining full eye contact, reaches for the tip of Penelo’s cock and begins massaging it with the palm of her hand through the clothes. 

“I agree. Would you help me tear her clothes away?” The question is completely serious, so serious that Penelo freezes with fright. Ashe acquiesces without a word, crawling her way to the other side of the blonde. The princess quickly slips her skirt and boots off, revealing her tight hot pants to the others. Her own bulge isn’t as impressive as the other two, but she more than makes up for it with her phenomenal waist-hip ratio. 

“She is so cute…” Coos the princess, looking down at those timid honey eyes. She reaches down for the buckles of Penelo’s costume and slowly begins to unfasten them. Fran does the same from the other end. Soon, the blonde girl is completely nude. The tight outfit accurately represented the athletic build of the petite blonde. Her chest is very small, smallest of the three, and she is generally very slim. Save for her cute bubble butt, Penelo has barely an inch of fat on her body. That is unless you don’t describe her huge member as fat. It is undeniably thick and looks monstrous on her dainty form. Fran bends down again, sticking her large butt into the air and hovering her face inches from Penelo’s length. She roughly snatches the base. 

“10 inches…? I can take that…” Fran’s voice is the definition of sexy. The vieran accent and deep huskiness are enough to wake any man’s shaft. Or woman. As though she has to prove herself, the viera starts taking the head of the monster into her mouth, suckling the tip and gently jerking the rest with her hand. It takes all of Penelo’s willpower not to explode then and there. Not once does Fran take her eyes from the blonde’s own as she, inch by inch, downs the entire thing. Her lips touch the base, yet still her gaze is firm and uninterrupted. She holds it there for what could have been minutes but felt like seconds; Penelo wants more. Slowly, with grace, Fran begins to pull her head back up and not once does she gag. Not once does she struggle. 

“Unfathomable…” Ashe breathlessly speaks. The corners of Fran’s mouth contain a little spit from the massive intrusion. She speaks in her trademark low voice:

“Your desires Penelo. Use me.” 

Shakily, the pigtailed girl nods. She grabs the viera by her long, leporine ears and positions her thick cock back against her lips. Fran opens wide, almost daring the blonde. Penelo takes the bait, shoving herself deep inside her throat. She pulls out, and rams back inside. She does it again. And again. Not once is their eye contact broken. She gets up onto her knees and fucks the viera’s head with a force she didn’t know she had, all the while, Fran angles her body in the most provocative way possible; she accentuates her already large butt by curving her back sensually.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Ashe resumes her previous position behind Fran. At some point during the skull fucking, she stripped herself bare of any clothing. She smashes her hand against the viera’s butt, making it shake rather profusely. The princess’s own hard 6 inches grind roughly against her posterior, making Fran whimper around the cock demolishing her throat. The wet squelching noises get louder as Penelo thrusts harder and harder. Soon, she lets go of the viera’s ears, and grips a large amount of her wild, silver hair. Fran’s muffled moans grow louder and louder as her spit splatters across her face. 

Without asking for permission, Ashe slides Fran’s G-string to the side, which in turn causes an audible thud on the blanket below them. Curious, the princess takes a look to find a serpent hanging from her body. Fran’s cock is inhuman – though in all fairness, she is not human. She is viera. Ashe assumed that their junk would scale up with their height, but this is beyond belief. It could very well be over a foot in length and flops around heavily from the oral onslaught she’s receiving. 

Ashe returns her gaze to Fran’s bodacious butt. The viera gives it a little shake for her princess; the act is both teasing and invitational. Pulling a royal smirk, Ashe rubs the palm of her hand against Fran’s soaking pussy, whom twitches euphorically. Without any need for further delay, Ashe rubs the viera’s juices onto her throbbing cock and lines it up with her… back passage. ‘You’re a viera, of course it’s going to be here.’ 

Gradually, the princess slides her slickened cock into Fran’s waiting hole. It is a little tight, but the viera is a good girl and lets it happen. She is not tense, or against anal. In fact, she pushes her butt towards the princess, eager for more. Ashe contentedly complies. With strong, steady shoves, the princess starts to fuck her powerful vieran warrior in her plump vieran ass. 

Penelo’s face is hot with blush as her breathing grows ragged. Fran knows when someone is about to cum and so wraps her hands around the blonde’s bubble butt, forcing her thrusts even harder inside. It’s as though the viera does not need to breathe, but that’s good, she doesn’t need to breathe to make this girl cum. Soon enough, Penelo’s thrusts get weaker and more erratic. It’s time. Fran uses all of her skill; she starts pumping the whole shaft with both hands as she deepthroats the full length. Her motions don’t cease, she goes full strength and full speed for her blonde admirer. Penelo has completely lost it. She looks dumb with pleasure and her cock boils more and more. 

Finally, Fran pushes her past her limits. Helplessly, the blonde unloads into her friend, whimpering from pure pleasure as she does. Fran doesn’t let up once, she gobbles it down, throating the whole shaft again and again as her insides are sprayed with her reward. It is beyond anything she has ever felt before. It is more than she ever hoped it would be. 

The spurts diminish, as do the viera’s expert motions. With a pop, Penelo’s thick shaft is released from her mouth, and rests against Fran’s face. Not a millilitre of cum is visible; not on her lips, not on her cheeks, nowhere. It is all inside the viera. Spent, the blonde lifelessly topples back down on to the blanket. Her honey eyes are tranquil as she watches her princess pounding into her warrior.

By looks of it, two years of frustration are being repeatedly slammed into the ass of the viera. Ashe drives herself into Fran with a brutal force, causing her butt to quake, and her thighs to shake. Fran lets out an uncharacteristic squeal of bliss. The persistent, forceful motions are perfectly delivered; the princess has done this more than once. With abrupt power, the princess’ hand punishes her warrior’s ass cheek. 

“Ooo!” Fran feels the burn on her malleable flesh and loves it. The pain heightens the gratification massively. She takes the assault with her face to the floor, and her ass as high as it can go. Ashe, reaffirming her dominance, grips the back of Fran’s head and holds it in place. Wordlessly, she takes the brutality, her giant cock flapping against her toned stomach from the force. Never before has she received such a hammering, not even from her most powerful and hung vieran sisters. Never before has she felt so demoralised and dirty beneath a woman. She stays there, on her knees and face, submitting to her princess, revelling in the complete and utter destruction of her most filthy hole. 

Another cruel strike ripples the flesh of Fran’s butt. Another whine of passion. Another shudder, reaching her core. Her sweet pussy is drenched and hot. Her enormous cock is throbbing and steel-like. But they must wait, it is not their time for attention yet. Each plunge of Ashe’s solid staff is balls deep; Fran’s ass has become loose and slick from her dominator’s pre-cum. This only rouses Ashe to fuck faster and more vigorously. 

With a rough hand, Ashe yanks Fran’s glorious silver locks, pulling her upper body off from the ground, and bringing their bodies together. Fran can feel the princess’ chest against the centre of her back again. She continues pushing her butt into Ashe’s forceful thrusts, mewling like an animal. Ashe grabs each of Fran’s wrists, using them as leverage to fuck her vieran pet. The pet is helpless. 

Each piston-like motion brings Ashe closer to an orgasm that has been 2 years in the waiting. For two years has she refused herself this luxury, and finally, it grows close. Her perfect vieran warrior is exactly what she needed. The exact balance of sexy and cute. The exact type of body she craves in a woman. The experience, the accent, the strength, the willingness to submit, the beauty, the grace, the way she carries herself. The reasons are endless; it’s all so appealing to Ashe. It’s all so hard to resist. She can’t stop it. Nothing in Ivalice could stop it now. 

2 years of pent up frustration explode deep inside of Fran, spurting torrents of her potent lady-liquid and painting her inner walls. Ashe releases her grip on Fran’s wrists, and clutches her impossibly thin waist as she pumps with the last of her strength. In a soothing, almost mother-like gesture, Fran reaches her hand back over her shoulder and caresses Ashe’s face. The action is sweet and caring, making the princess’ final spurts feel all the more special. 

That’s the second girl Fran has drained dry today. 

Limply, Ashe crumples against her warrior’s back, panting wildly. Fran remains strong, despite the complete annihilation she has received not once, but twice. With great care, Fran removes the princess’ length from herself, and takes her into her arms. With almost no effort, she carries Ashe to Penelo’s side and lays her down on her back. The pigtailed girl’s light breaths are indicative of sleep. Ashe looks almost there herself. Her faint blue eyes are layered with a euphoric glaze as she looks up at her vieran warrior. 

Just as the princess is about to drift off, something weighty slaps against her stomach. Her eyes flicker back open and she looks down. There, resting on her flaccid cock is Fran’s colossal shaft. It is twice as thick and over twice the length of her own. It even trounces Penelo’s quite substantially. Fran looks down at her princess with a dark smirk. Intimidating as that monstrous size is, Ashe can’t help the lewd feelings stirring up inside of her again. 

“You need not ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally didn't intend to do multiple chapters, but I recently decided I love vierans, so do you know what that means?! ...Me neither. Maybe it means Eruyt village? We'll find out soon anyway.


	2. Progress

The gentle flickering of rain tickles the outside of the tent. The princess’s pale blue eyes flitter open. The glorious glow from the crystal is gone, the orange hue has been replaced by the murky haze of the Giza’s wets. Their fiery friend has all but gone out, leaving nothing but cold ash and stale soot. Her body is sore, her rear in particular. ‘It was _not_ a dream…’ Dimly, she props herself up on one arm and holds the snug sheets tightly against her nude form with the other. As the morning light mildly rouses her into a stronger state of awareness, she scans the room for her companions.

Penelo is the first one to catch Ashe’s eye; her petite and sleeping body is sprawled out rather uncouthly by her feet. She is draped in a blanket of her own, which hugs her modest curves and clings to her obscene bulge. Its considerable size makes it difficult for Ashe to tear her eyes from, but she manages to nonetheless. Continuing her search, she looks to what lays behind her and flinches when opulent, red eyes fill her vision. The viera lays alongside her, about half a foot away; Ashe can only assume they fell asleep spooning.

“Princess.” Her greeting is smooth and quiet, still laden with the thick vieran accent that is adored throughout Ivalice. She is propped up on one elbow and her chaotic, compelling silver locks dance down her shoulders and across the bedding. 

“Fran… you were not… watching me sleep, no?” Her royal tone oozes concern. She notices the viera’s equally nude, but uncovered body. Just as her eyes begin to drift towards Fran’s monster, Fran’s manicured hand holds the side of her face so that their vision is locked together.

“I was not. You woke me when you took our sheet for yourself.” An acutely amorous allegation. As Fran releases Ashe’s face, the princess’ pale blue eyes flash straight to Fran’s behemoth. ‘How does she stay conscious when that awakens…?’

“Princess.”

“Right, of course.” She shakes the thought away and carefully pushes some of the sheet towards her warrior, being cautious not to expose any skin to her. Immediately, Ashe rests on the bed on her back and winces when her malleable butt hits the sheet beneath them. ‘Perhaps I was overzealous last night.’ Despite the very dull pain, there is a pleasantly loose feeling back there.

Fran lightly grasps the sheets and shimmies in close to her princess. “You need not be so conservative, both Penelo and I have seen far more than your chest.” Her voice is both supportive and flirtatious.

“No, I am certainly aware of that…”

“Is our princess… shy? Such bashfulness mismatches the vulgar, risqué woman that pervaded my very soul last night.” Her dignified words equally contrast the indecent profanities she roared when she and Penelo filled their princess to the point of mass overflow. No hole was safe from their colossi.

“I may have… gotten swept away last night, but we should not tarry any longer. When Penelo awakens, we take our leave.” Her eyes are fixed with the ceiling of the tent and her fingers remain defensively clasped around the hem of their sheet.

“As you wish.”

As though the words roused her into consciousness, Penelo rises from her slumber. Immediately they both notice one of the blonde’s pigtails is in disarray and spikes off in every direction. Ashe remembers exactly when that happened; Fran was demolishing Penelo’s womanhood in a cruel, brutal and balls-deep mating press that almost definitely resulted in a half-viera, half-hume growing within her.

“Oh, Penelo, your hair.” Fran fusses the girl, beckoning her to come closer. Penelo is the essence of timidity as she sleepily shuffles into Fran’s soothing hands. The blonde’s honey eyes dare not draw themselves to either of their faces. After removing the remaining pigtail and smoothing down the wildness of the first, Fran pets the girl on the head sweetly.

“All done, you look lovely when your hair is down.” The compliment is wholly innocent, but still makes Penelo shift a little with a flattered discomfort.

“Really?” She coyly glances up to the vieran. Anyone in the entirety of Ivalice could see the burning crush the small girl has on Fran, yet still no-one brings attention to it. She’s a completely different girl around the vieran.

“Of course.” She runs her manicured hands down Penelo’s cheek in a distinctly possessive way. The blonde looks as though her heart is about to implode. Fran turns to her princess and talks with her trademark sleekness:

“We would take our leave now, yes?”

The remaining venture through the Giza is painfully uneventful. The quiet only serves to boost the tension in the air. It is thicker than the rainfall. As fortune would have it, the final stretch lies ahead. After a long thirty minutes, the mountain-pass that separates them from the Ozmone plain is now clearly visible, even in this dense drizzle.

“A moment.” Fran calls composedly. She raises her spear in front of her and closes her eyes. The mist around them channels through her body, lighting her with a faint orange shimmer. As she flicks her spear in a crescent arc shape, the girls feel themselves grow lighter on their feet. When Penelo takes a step forward, it feels far less sluggish than it did before.

“Amazing! Thank you!” Being almost exclusively a white magick user, she has never felt how being hasted feels. The feeling is exhilarating, akin to gliding.

“Thank me not, I can do it a few more times before resting.”

*

Fran’s excellent poise is difficult to read. Her arms are crossed, but she does not appear defensive. Her eyes are narrow, but she does not appear angry. She is wholly neutral. The night sky of Jahara is littered with stars of varying sizes and brightness.

“That the Lord Larsa and his escort would seek us out personally… the boy is earnest, yet admirably sincere.” She is leant against a pen of sleeping nanna’s with Penelo sat at her side; Penelo hugs her own legs, with her knees pressed against her chest. Fran’s deep red eyes are fixed upon the princess, whom absentmindedly wanders the village, having wished for solitude so she may think. Penelo looks up to the standing vieran.

“It was nice of him, yes… how long until we take up his offer?”

“That is up to the princess.” She does not avert her eyes from Ashe. Penelo was hoping she would. Fran’s arms uncross and she places a hand on her wide hip. “Perhaps you may try and speak with her?”

Penelo’s honey eyes blink confusedly. “But, what could I say that you could not say better?” Her sweet voice trickles with scepticism as her vision fixes on the sheet beneath her. Fran gets to her knees and brings her long, animal-like fingers beneath Penelo’s chin, guiding her head up and forcing their eyes to meet. The intense red glows with a supportive kindness. The longer Fran silently holds her in place, the harder Penelo finds it to resist puckering her lips.

“You are Rabanastran, are you not?”

The blonde gasps inaudibly. Fran releases her face but remains knelt at her side.

“I suppose…”

“There is guidance to be found in commonality. I cannot help in that regard.” Her tone hints at something far deeper. She watches the sky with a neutral expression.

“About your home-” Fran quickly cuts her off:

“-There are more pressing matters, Penelo, are there not?” Even though Fran’s voice is soothing, Penelo recoils as though being told off. Not being one to ignore body language, the viera leans in and takes the blonde by the back of her head and presses their lips together. If Penelo was chocolate, she would melt. Her body submits and weakly collapses against the kisser. Just as she’s about to lose her mind, the lips escape from her. Penelo pants a little, leaning forward, missing their warmth already. Fran watches her with a maternal gaze and brings the back of a finger against Penelo’s delicate cheek and warmly rubs it. Sensing Penelo’s inability to form words at this moment, Fran speaks:

“A kiss of courage.”

A flood of peace washes over Penelo’s face. Taking the hint, she stands up and pulls her eyes away from Fran’s, searching for their princess. A simple wooden bridge is where she is fixed. Her posture is closed off. Penelo calmly makes her way over, leaving the viera on her own. The princess’s vision is focussed entirely on the dry earth in the distance. She clings to her arm with one hand.

“Princess…?” Penelo stops a good few metres away. Ashe does not visibly react to her presence.

“…Call me Ashe, please.” She sounds as reticent as she looks. A contradiction to the purpose behind her words.

“Thank you, Ashe… what are you thinking about?” She knows how blunt the question is but asks anyway. It needs to be done. Ashe smiles weakly.

“…I saw him again, stood right where you are.” The statement acts as a hint. 

“I see… I didn’t see him this time.” She confirms Ashe’s suspicion.

“I should have mentioned it sooner, I apologise.” The princess speaks softly, turning her head to look at Penelo to appear as genuine as she feels. Last night most assuredly had an effect on her. Her openness is… nice.

“You don’t have to say that, princess… Truthfully, I don’t know who I saw, it was a blur. Maybe it was my friend…”

“If I may ask, what happened to your friend?” Ashe releases her arm.

“The war.” Penelo crosses her arms.

“I see…” The princess’s eyes wander back to the dry earth in the distance. Penelo’s form suddenly loosens up.

“Don’t worry!” She chirps. “He had his reasons to enlist, I don’t fault him anymore.”

“And why is that?” Ashe smiles.

“He did it for me. He did it for you too, our princess.” Penelo closes the gap slightly, standing at Ashe’s side and gazing into the night.

“He sounds like a wonderful man. I am happy you do not hold it against him… or me.”

“I couldn’t, not after everything that’s happened. I am with you, the princess he dreamed of meeting. It would dishonour him to hold on to that resentment… and it would be a dishonour to myself, I suppose.”

“…You have a rare kindness… Fran is fortunate.” The comment is deliberately teasing in nature.

“You saw that?” Penelo chuckles, slightly flustered. Ashe turns so they are face to face and smiles affectionately.

“I did. I can think of no better match than two of the most loyal strangers I’ve ever known. Or rather… Two of the most loyal friends.”

Penelo supresses a pleasantly surprised laugh. They smile for one another, both with their lips, and their eyes. A smooth, accented voice snatches their attention:

“Such a smile I have not seen from our princess before, I trust she means to show it to us more?” Fran casually places a hand on Penelo’s shoulder and looks into her honey eyes expectantly.

“I hope so.” The smallest girl replies with a shy grin. Whether intentionally or not, she leans into Fran’s hand ever so slightly. They both gaze at their princess with expressions so open that Ashe can’t resist the positivity spreading across her chest. 

“The night beckons us; we make our way through Golmore when the sun rises. Rest well.” There is a clear difference in the delivery of those words, and all those that came prior. The clarity and sophistication in them remain very much the same, but there’s a warmth now. There is trust.

“You mean to sleep separate from us, your two most loyal friends?” Fran smirks darkly. She makes no effort to hide the sultriness in her eyes. Ashe reciprocates the expression, which somehow looks more fiendish upon her royal, typically stern features. She steps in close and softly takes Penelo’s hand in her own, pulling her away from Fran.

“Perhaps - _rest well_ \- was intended for you, Fran.”

Penelo’s cheeks have never been brighter. Fran sneers darkly.

“I see… You have thirty minutes. After that, I will come for you, Princess.” It is not a warning. It is a statement of fact.

“And I will be waiting.”


	3. Pine

Unsurprisingly, Ashe awakens just as sore as the previous morning. The soreness is coupled with a pleasant feeling; her body feels loose and the tenseness that weighed her shoulders down has been soothed to a mere afterthought. Penelo’s dainty body is sprawled across her own, weighing barely a thing. The faint pulse of her heartbeat thrums against her abdomen. The princess feels too guilty to move at the risk of rousing her from such a peaceful sleep.

“Dawn has long since passed, though I admit the sight of you both was cause enough to hold off on waking you. An attractive pair to be sure.” Fran’s eloquent manner of speech in the morning is becoming somewhat addictive for Ashe. She relaxes a few feet away from the two with a half-read book resting by her side. The princess replies softly as to not disturb their lover:

“I empathise. She is chaste, despite the horrors she has seen. I must confess, I sometimes forget that she is but only sixteen.”

“Yet she shows us repeatedly that numbers are simply that. Numbers.” Fran’s posture exudes the same wisdom that she speaks. Ashe smiles knowingly at her before allowing her face to fall more serious. She gazes past Fran and towards the light of the sun beaming against the tent. Placidly, her hand rocks Penelo’s shoulder.

“…Mmmhh…?” The way the tiny blonde expresses drowsiness befits her innocent appearance. Those sleepy, honey-filled eyes flutter open to meet Ashe’s own pale blues. The princess’s expression is kind but urging. Penelo flinches and lifts her body away from Ashe’s, straddling her with no words and giving her the sweetest, most apologetic eyes possible. Just as Penelo is about to squirm away, Ashe’s hands calmly, but firmly, envelop her wrists.

“Good morning.” She sits up to peck Penelo on the nose, before releasing her wrists. If Penelo’s cheeks flushed more Ashe would insist on checking her for a fever. The playfulness in Ashe’s laughter is shocking, but a welcome delight for both of their ears. Without either of them realising it, Fran had slipped in next to them and now rests her hand on the small of Penelo’s back. There is a candour fire alight in the vieras eyes.

“You have been very patient Penelo, and I must confess that I have been secretive in excess.” The seriousness in her voice demands their attention and care, which they both give; albeit with a little bit of confusion at Fran’s suddenness.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t fault you for that, you aren’t hurting us by withholding anything.” Penelo’s sweetness shines; there’s nothing disingenuous about her statement. There are no mind games to decipher.

“Yes, your past is simply that, the past.” Ashe’s words compliment Penelo’s perfectly. Fran doesn’t often smile as sincerely as she is now.

“You sweet fools, thank you. We head for Golmore jungle soon and… there is a probability we will encounter my people there; rather, those who _were_ my people.” The vieras expression is difficult for either of them to read. It is simultaneously warm and cold, yet somehow devoid of both. Penelo’s eyebrows crease in worry. She dismounts Ashe’s waist and rests her hands across her thighs, sitting on her knees and facing Fran directly. It is a submissive posture.

“Tell me how that makes you feel.” The smallest girl urges. Ashe’s eyebrows raise at Fran expectantly.

Fran, the well-spoken and quick witted viera, simply gasps. Her words fail her. Empathy forces a wistful smile onto the Princess’s lips. Just as Penelo is about to speak, the viera holds up a long finger, demanding silence.

“I have pleasant memories in those woods. Those who were my sisters were a blessing to me and I could not have wished for a better family - were I a viera. But I am not. A viera who forsakes the wood is a viera no more.” They both listen with care, kindly prompting for more with gentle nods and sounds. She indulges them:

“I wanted to see what lay beyond those boughs, so I left the wood. This was my choice and…” She hesitates. “…Regret is something I advise you not practice. Should we have to pass through the village I hail from, do not expect warmth or care.” After Fran’s warning, her eyes slowly lower to the ground and her mouth parts. Shock creeps onto her face. Disbelief at how easy sharing such information was once she had got going. Disbelief that she even found the willpower to talk about it. It is not something she wishes to make a habit of.

Small fingers rest across the back of her hand. A moment passes and another set of small fingers rest across the other. The supportive squeeze they give is not unwanted. Her girls are doing their best to support her, without pushing her too hard. Her following smile is laden with gratitude. Their lips tickle either side of her cheeks at the same time, leaving the sweetest little kisses there. The silence is tenderly broken by Ashe’s whisper:

“I dread to think of an Ivalice where you did not leave those boughs. You’ve already done so much to help me reclaim the home that was taken from me. I cannot thank you enough.” The princess’s sincerity sounds appropriately formal. She wouldn’t be Ashe without her refined manner of speech.

“It is because I gave up a home that I yearn for yours to be given back to you.”

“It is not just _my_ home. It is a home for us both. For Penelo. For my people.” Ashe’s face is one of reassurance and strength. A face a proud mother makes at her apologetic child to let them know that they still feel loved.

Fran’s chest flutters for the first time in a very long time. ‘She is a princess no more… she is a queen. Our queen.’ She rotates her hands and lifts them up so both Penelo and Ashe’s fingers interlock with her own. Something burns within her. She is ready to face her past. With these two by her side, it will surely be easy.

“Then let’s away, kingdoms are not known to liberate themselves.”

*

The humidity of the woods is all too familiar. The undeniable heat drenched in an aura of moisture. The dark, seemingly endless pitfalls tucked between the impossible trees. She has never seen the true floor of this jungle and likely never will. They slink across the unnatural paths; paths that may have been created by humes, or the viera. None can say. None can remember.

“Fran…?” Penelo’s light voice carries through the thick air and dances up the trees. The viera halts, spins around and gracefully rests a hand on her hip.

“Yes?” Her exotic accent chimes, still striking a chord within them.

“Why is there only a chance that we will see your village? Is it well hidden? Do they know we are here?” She makes no effort to hide the discomfort that plagues her thoughts.

“That’s a lot of questions.” Fran blandly states. Penelo recoils a little, making the viera chuckle smoothly. “Relax, little one, your curiosity is endearing.”

Fran resumes her path; one that she remembers well as she does not put much thought into navigating it, and begins to answer her:

“There is no doubt that they are aware of our presence. The wood warders wish not to be seen, so we do not see them.” That did little to quell Penelo’s concern. “The same could be said of the village, humes cannot find it; they lack the means to gain access.” Appropriately vague, just like Fran likes it. The princess is quick to speak this time:

“And what of her first question?”

Fran takes a few steps further before giving a response; the response, however, is with action, not words. A simple gesture. As Ashe and Penelo catch up and follow her finger they find their answer. An ominous blue epitaph bars their path, it is undoubtedly mystical in nature and especially jarring; a beautiful barrier glowing in the dim dark of the wood.

“Was this their doing…?” Ashe questions, prompting a stoic nod from Fran. “…But, why?” The princess’s pale eyes are lit with a concern that rarely shines in them.

“Let’s ask them ourselves.” Fran raises a hand towards the east and strides away from them. There is confidence in her walk. There is irritation in her walk.

“We’re going there? To your village?” Penelo poorly hides the excitement in her voice. Fran strides on, electing not to answer, knowing that Penelo already knows. Ashe jogs up to the vieras side.

“Will they allow Penelo and I entry into the village too?” The princess looks up at Fran as they walk.

“Our choices are few.” Fran calmly responds without looking at her. She immediately turns to her right and stares out into a large, murky pit of emptiness within the trees. Her vivid eyes gaze out into the vastness as she lifts a slender finger into the air. A pretty green light shines from the tip of her finger as it begins to move, forming symbols and gestures in front of them that the princess does not recognise. As Penelo catches up, Fran dismisses the glow with a final wave of her hand. In a fast, rhythmic flash of green, a long path weaves into existence directly in front of the trio. It looks to be made of sturdy vines and appears endless as it disappears into the darkness ahead. She turns to her girls, taking in their expressions.

“Do not worry, the viera will not harm you without cause.” Despite her grievances with her people, Fran’s confidence in that statement gives them the utmost faith that she’s telling the truth.

“That’s good, but… it’s not really us that we are worried about.” The shortest girl says, barely a whisper. Fran leans down and plants a strong kiss on her forehead.

“Our sweet girl. Soon you will learn.”

*

A bright, pale green light beams through an archway a few hundred yards ahead. It pierces through the haze, enticing them; without realising it, they have begun to walk faster than before. With each step, the air changes. The humidity lessens. The stagnant wooden smell dims. The air becomes clearer, just like their minds.

They arrive.

Fran is the first to step into the village. Her ears twitch as though she is being hunted. Her opulent, crimson eyes shift, but find no signs of life waiting for them. The inhabitants knew she would come, yet they did not station any warders here; not to find out what they want – not even to send them away. ‘Am I not worth your time now, Jote?’ 

Penelo breathes deeply through her nose and groans with appreciation. Fran mimics the action. The air of the village is addictive, just as Fran remembers it. The sweetness blended with the pleasantly aromatic wooden tones. It is far more beatific than the damp-smelling trees behind them.

“It’s amazing!” Gawps Penelo. Ashe too looks appropriately astonished. Neither of them have ever seen anything like it. No hume has. The pathway has divulged into large, spherical discs that form a type of bridge to the village proper up ahead. Many quaint and unique structures are built by the trees, nestled neatly alongside the trunks. Unlike the rest of Golmore, this village is truly radiant. All that lays before them is immersed in a fantastical film of sunlight that dips through the never-ending trees. It is absurd.

“Eruyt village; it is here where we will find her: Mjrn.” Fran states coolly.

“Who is she?” Penelo asks a little quicker than she should have. The vieran warrior sighs patiently.

“No need for jealousy, she is my younger sister.”

“I see…” The blonde hangs her head, feeling shame twitch in her chest. Fran takes stride, with a confidence exuding from her steps. Immediately, her companions are hot on her heels. Despite its flawless beauty, nothing about this place offers any substantial comfort. The air here may be sweet, but it is just as stagnant as the rest of Golmore.

Two black clad, mask donned vieras stand watch behind a pair of pristine white pillars ahead. They make no effort to halt the intruders. Though they do not move, Penelo can feel their glare. It feels like hate. Like envy. Her skin itches. She reaches for Fran’s elbow as they pass the warders and locks their arms together. Though Fran visibly flinches from the touch, she does not scold her, nor shrug her off. If anything, she leans into it.

Soon they reach a beatific spring. It shimmers and reflects the warm glow that peeks through the boughs. It harbours no life within its waters. Even the water seems lifeless. It’s as though it does not flow. It is graceful… and a little sad. The residents of the village are equally as passive. The few who are not still and silent are simply gliding as they walk. Their majesty seems effortless.

“Why do they not look at us?” Ashe whispers.

“It is my assumption that the wood told them of our arrival… the arrival of the deserter. We are unimportant. The ones that need watch us are the ones that bear arms.” Her statement is clear, deliberately loud enough to be heard by many; regardless, none give her their attention. Penelo recalls the black clad vieras and the weighty bows that were strewn across their backs. A deep shudder causes her legs to crumple; if not for Fran’s elbow guiding her forward, she might have fallen over then and there.

To further prod at her discomfort, every viera stands at roughly a foot or more above her in height – and that does not include their lupine ears. Never has she felt smaller. Not even when she was faced with the cold steel of an archadian blade. That’s when something curious catches her eye.

“Wow, looks like not all viera are so tall, huh?” Penelo smiles, feeling somewhat better. She watches a vieran drift by, eyes level with her own. This viera has been the only one she can confirm has looked her in the eye.

“She is a child.” Fran supresses her smirk as she reveals this fact. She does not have to see Penelo’s face to notice that this has upset her. “No need for self-pity, if I desired a woman as tall as a viera, I would have stayed with the wood; instead, I found the smallest hume woman I could and sucked her dry.” She smirks at the shy blonde. Penelo squeezes Fran’s arm and says nothing.

“Fran.” The princess says her name with a quiet sincerity. Immediately, Fran sees why. A pair of vierans stand before the trio-one even taller than Fran, and the other a little shorter. They both stare at the deserter. The tall girl has blank eyes and a face that mirrors Fran’s completely, but the smaller girl has more youthful features, and eyes that are filled with longing; her parted lips and creased brow speak volumes. This girl must be Mjrn, the younger sister Fran mentioned. Regardless of the variety of emotions in their vieran eyes, they all share the same brilliant red within them, with nary a difference.

“S-sister!” Mjrn stutters out. Fran winces harshly at the word. Without any forethought, Mjrn lunges forward and squashes her lost sister in a crippling hug, one which forces Penelo to release her arm. Fran is frozen. For the first time since they have known her, Ashe and Penelo can read Fran’s expression with ease. Pain. Raw pain. Nothing more.

Mjrn’s warm embrace soon ends. Fran feels hollow and cold instantly. She yearns for her little sister. For her loving sister.

“Why have you come?” The tallest girl speaks; her voice is low and smooth, thick with the accent that is unique to the vieran race. Aside from the clothing differences, she truly is indistinguishable from Fran. Were it not for the minor height difference and hairstyle, it would be impossible to identify who is who. Her hair cascades down her body - an ocean of silver. Penelo now understands why Fran prefers to wear hers as a wild ponytail.

“You ask me? You play me for a fool, Jote.” She characteristically rests a hand on her hip as she eyes her taller sibling. Jote mimics her flawlessly, with an air that can only come from someone in authority.

“The wood told us of your passage through Golmore, yet your presence in our village is unwarranted, you will find no succour here. I ask again: why have you come?” Her glare visibly effects Fran. Confusion soon swirls across the deserter’s face.

“A barrier denies us passage… was this not your doing?” Fran asks cautiously.

“No… it would seem your sense of self has risen these past fifty years.” Her sister chides with an air of conceit.

Ashe glances at Penelo to see her eyes fixed upon the floor. Mjrn too seems infatuated by it. Ashe narrows her faint blue stare at the youngest vieran trying to discern the reason for her coy body language. Fran too notices the discomfort Mjrn exudes.

“Mjrn…”

The girl does not respond. Such is the only response that is needed.

“The wood longs for you, the child gone from under Her boughs.” Mjrn’s voice is weak. Her emotions lay upon her sleeve. Fran smiles; a warm, yet solemn expression.

“A pleasant lie, that…” Fran’s smile grows wider and more beautiful but appears no less grim. Her little sister’s brow creases and her eyes bleed with desperation.

“If you will not come back then… let me come with you! I too wish to be free of the idle nature of the wood. I wish to be with you-to be free!” Mjrn’s exclamation is sincere. Her final word rings through the misty air, and the trees, piercing into the bark, and heard by all who dwell nearby.

Fran steps forward, eyes laced with candor.

“Do not do this.” She rests a hand on her sister’s delicate shoulder. The touch is searing for them both, though Fran masks her emotions far better than before. “You must remain away from the humes.” With an assertive squeeze she speaks once more. “Stay with the wood. Live together with the wood. This is your way.”

“But Fran-my sister!”

Fran steels herself against that word.

“ _I am no longer of you_.” She says calmly, though the tremble in her tone betrays all she is trying to achieve by saying it. This tremble sparks a hope in her sister’s eyes. Mjrn’s hand meets the hand that is resting on her shoulder. It calms Fran. It is just as soft as it was before she left it behind. Fran uses all of her willpower to successfully pull away from her grasp. She cannot hold Mjrn’s gaze. Mjrn persists:

“But I can _feel_ it within you-this burning conflict! I felt it as soon as you returned to the wood!” Mjrn naively clamours.

“I…” The sentence is lost. So too is Fran. A lost child. A loved child. Jote approaches them both, and with a voice like cream, speaks:

“The wood truly yearns for you, sister.” For Jote to use this word causes great tension in Fran’s chest. Fran’s eyes flicker between their faces. All of the bitterness has left Jote’s expression-all that remains within her abandoned sisters, is hope. It is at this moment that Fran feels hands enveloping her right arm. The hands are delicate. They are the hands of her precious human companion. The abandoned sisters glare at the pig-tailed blonde with eyes so fierce they could cause fires. Ashe’s voice cuts through tension:

“Jote, if I may.” The tallest viera gives her an inquisitive glance before nodding her approval. Ashe breathes evenly. “There are a great many people who desire freedom. My people. Your sisters. Freedom is a luxury humes are blessed with. Or were _once_ blessed with. It was snatched from us. We were simply caught between two sides. My kingdom was doomed no matter the outcome. When this needless war comes to the wood, they will not spare you. You too will be caught. The laws of the wood are nothing to those in power, and in power do they swim. This is merely a land to be conquered-or worse… insignificant cross-fire.” Ashe’s warning does not go amiss. Many key words float through Jote’s mind: snatched, caught, needless, conquered. There is one word that rings clearer than them all: _power_.

“With what intent do you bring these facts?” The authoritative tone she speaks in would be enough to make anyone grovel. Not Ashe.

“To protect the wood, I would offer my hand to you and yours. A union. We will not disrupt your way of life; we simply ask that you help us-.”

“-We cannot do this.” A blunt refusal, yet one given with a perceptible hesitance.

“By request of the wood?” Ashe asks plainly. A single nod confirms the question. Fran, locking eyes with Jote, talks with as much confidence as she can muster.

“My princess seeks power. You see this. I see this. Turning away a woman who seeks power for the use of good, would surely lead her down the wrong path, would you not say?” Everyone’s face is coated with confusion. She continues: “I would say, were it not _this_ princess. Her words are as clear as her heart. Her heart is as honest as her plight. This I know. This I have seen.” The eloquent words leave Jote in another state of pondering as she glares into the princess’s pale blue eyes. The glare soon becomes a stare. The stare soon becomes a gaze. 

“You will prove your sincerity.” A clean statement from the eldest sibling. She leaves them in silence, making her way into a temple a short distance ahead of them. 

“That felt a little… foreboding.” Penelo whimpers from behind Fran’s arm. Mjrn pouts at the blonde and quickly snatches Fran’s free arm and rests her head against her shoulder. Fran pays them no mind and turns her head to her princess.

“Are you sure you wish to do this, Ashe? I may know what she will ask of you.”

“Do not tell me. When she asks it of me, I would find it preferable to be pleasantly surprised. I am sure we have surpassed worse, whatever it may be."


End file.
